Note from Web Site Manager: Aulden didn't want to post this account of what he was taught about love. He felt that the lesson was for him alone, and that if anyone else wanted information about how to love they would need other advice. I convinced him, however, that the lesson tied in with a theme that appeared throughout, even in the final stories when he learned that "doing nothing means doing what is true to you." With that in mind, he consented to posting this journal account, the search for the Subatomic Terrorists, continued from the previous story.

Aulden and his five companions entered the clearing within the rhododendron grove. In this clearing was a circle of nine log-stumps chairs. He counted them, and it crossed his mind that there were three more seats than they would need. Why the extra three?

Perhaps because of the fragrance of the rhododendrons or the strangeness of this place, Aulden felt caught up in a kind of euphoria. Without knowing why, he asked Shannon, "It's peaceful here. Can I have love and still have peace?" Shannon answered, "That's an interesting question."

They sat on the log-stumps: The Wind, Janice, Shannon and Aulden, Ferdinand and Little Miss Sunshine. They settled in, and a deer quietly passed by outside the circle. Aulden noticed and tapped Shannon's arm. She nodded and whispered, "Wildlife."

As the deer disappeared into the rhododendron forest, another animal walked into the clearing - if it could be called an animal. Aulden recognized it as a satyr with goat legs and a human head and torso. On that human head was a large set of curved horns.

Aulden didn't want the satyr to be frightened of them, so he said, "We're here to learn. We won't harm anyone who comes here."

The satyr approached Aulden, squatted down on its haunches, and brought his face to Aulden's and sniffed at him. To Aulden, the creature's head along with those horns seemed enormous and a bit unnerving. Then the Satyr said, "You're him."

Aulden asked, "What do you mean?" but the satyr didn't answer. He raised his face upward and bellowed loud like an elk calling the herd, and after regaining his breath he bellowed his trumpet-call again.

Several more satyrs then came into the clearing until there were six of them. Aulden asked, "Will you take the three empty seats here?"

The one close to him said, "Those are for the others," and they all sat on the ground outside the circle. Aulden spoke to his companions, "I think maybe they came to see the Subatomic Terrorists like we did."

That Satyr close-by said, "That's what you call them."

Aulden asked, "What do you call them?"

He snorted and laughed, with a sound not unlike a horse, and said, "That's for me to knows… nose!" He pointed to his nose when he made this esoteric word play, and then he laughed big and loud. The other satyrs spoke for the first time at that point, with, "Shh," and, "Be peaceful here."

And they waited.

~ ~ ~

The night passed. Aulden woke and went to work. The next night he was back in the circle, sitting quietly. They waited. No one else arrived. The waiting was like a lesson in patience; a time of meditation.

On the third night Aulden did another mental roll call of who was there, he focused on his breathing, he did everything The Wind had taught him about meditation, and they waited. Finally, from out of the rhododendrons a rabbit hopped into the clearing. This wouldn't seem important except that it was the only action Aulden had seen in a couple nights. It meant that he was noticing things; he was "in the zone" and connecting with animal instinct.

One of the satyrs commented that he was "hungry enough to eat that bunny." Aulden asked if they ate rabbits. Another of the satyrs said, "We're vegetarians."

More waiting and then a song could be heard from somewhere distant. It wasn't an ancient tune. In fact it was a modern song that Aulden recognized, "The Tower of Learning," by an artist named Rufus Wainwright. Someone deep in the rhododendron forest was blissfully singing the lyrics as if in some peaceful preoccupation:

I'm looking for the tower of learning.
I'm looking for the copious prize.
I saw it in your eyes what I'm looking for.
I saw it in your eyes what I'm looking for.
I really do fear that I'm dying.
I really do fear that I'm dead.
I saw it in your eyes what I'm looking for.
I saw it in your eyes what will make me live.

The satyrs, with panpipes, began playing along with this music. Aulden felt restless with anticipation over who might be coming. He watched for movement in the rhododendrons. Shannon, sensing his restlessness, put her hand on his hand just long enough to catch his eye. "Patience."

A woman with red hair stepped out of the rhododendrons. She was wearing white robes with a hood that was thrown back. She sat on the stump-chair next to Little Miss Sunshine.

A man with black hair then emerged from the grove, also wearing white hooded robes. He sat between The Wind and Ferdinand.

A third figure came into the clearing, also wearing the white robes. He was an older man who whose hair was long and silvery-gray, cropped just above the shoulders.

Aulden asked, "Are you the ones people call the Subatomic Terrorists?" The old man answered, "The satyrs call us 'The Smell Of.'" Aulden asked, "Smell of what?" He answered, "Just 'The Smell Of.' They have a good sense of smell."

Aulden was suddenly distracted by, of all things, his shoelaces. He noticed that they were laced wrong and had several knots. He leaned and tried fixing the laces, and the Old One, the man with the long gray hair, said, "You're all tied up inside."

Aulden asked, "What can I do?"

The Old One answered, "What can I do? Wait."

Aulden went straight to the question that had him tied up, "I know how to 'feel' love but I don't know how to 'do' love.

The female, the one with the red hair, said, "Do? Love is feminine. Love is 'be.'"

The Old One spoke in agreement, "Be."

Aulden asked, "How?"

The Redhead told him, "Wait." She looked around the group as if searching, as if she was having a realization, and she asked, "Who here is pregnant?"

Everyone in the group looked at each other, uncertain. Aulden, in a fit of spontaneity, said, "I think it's me." Some in the group laughed at this, and others looked at him with seriousness as if they thought it was possible - possible that something was coming to birth in Aulden's psyche.

Then the Redhead returned to the topic. She said, "Love is procreation."

Aulden questioned, "Surely it's more than that."

She elaborated, "Birth. Creation."

The Old One explained, "These things aren't 'doing.' They're 'being.'"

Aulden speculated, as if he saw some connection, "I know when I write a poem, sometimes it comes out like I'm not making any effort."

The Redhead and the Old One spoke together: "Doing nothing."

Aulden asked, "What about 'being loved.'"

The Redhead repeated, "Wait."

"What about you - you dark-hair man?" Aulden asked, "Are you here to help Ferdinand, the Punisher?"

The Dark-Hair fellow answered, "Yes, and you - all of you."

"You haven't spoken," Aulden said to him.

Dark-Hair responded, "We're all speaking together."

Redhead added, "Without trying."

The Old One continued, "Effortless."

Aulden contemplated, "Okay, so love is effortless. How does it go to who it's supposed to go to if I don't make an effort?"

The Old One answered, "Because it's there."

Aulden was beginning to think that he couldn't expect their answers to be very pragmatic. It wasn't going to be like an instruction manual. He asked them, "Tell me more about being loved."

The Redhead answered in a manner more cryptic than ever, "We have a little something… someone…no one knows. Slip it under the door, unexpected. No one cares. Take it. Taste it. Can't give it if you reach for it. Funny thing. Give it to you when you're not looking."

Aulden tried to get a more practical response, "What if I'm crying for it? Desperate for it?"

She responded, "No, no, no - have to have it in yourself or else can't get it from others."

Aulden told her, "I've heard that before."

"Okay then," she replied.

The sat in silence for a moment and then Aulden, as if realizing it suddenly even though he suspected all along, exclaimed, "I think you're angels."

The Old One smiled and said, "I think we are."

Aulden spoke with some uncertainty, telling them, "When you're gone, I have to go out there and live this way."

The Old One assured him, "Shouldn't be hard."

"You can do this," the Redhead agreed.

Aulden said to the Dark-Hair, "What about you? You haven't said anything."

The Dark-Hair angel gave assurance, "You'll be okay."

They stood as if ready to leave. Aulden suddenly felt as if he needed more from them; as if he wanted to better understand, and he asked, "Please don't go." The Old One responded, "We answered your questions."

Aulden asked, "Isn't there more to it?"

"It's as simple as that," the Old One answered.

"Will you come again? Will I see you again?"

The Old One said to Aulden, "If you need us. Now, have a good day."

The angels walked away, into the rhododendrons, and everyone stood in respect. Aulden was running their words through his mind, not sure that he had the answers he needed.

The satyrs remained nearby and Aulden called to the one who'd arrived first, "Hey!" The satyr looked him in the eye and Aulden asked, "When you said, 'It's him,' what did you mean?"

The creature said, "The one who brings the 'Knows' - 'The Smell Of.'"

Aulden expected more, but… "Just that?" he asked.

"Just that" is all that the satyr answered before happily skipping away.